My Gift
by Dedeen
Summary: Just a little Thanksgiving ficlet


I own nada!

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When you told me you wanted Thanksgiving to be at our house this year, I thought you had lost you lovely little mind. But then you said, _It's Cece's first Thanksgiving,_ and,_ Wouldn't it be nice for her to have her first Thanksgiving in the same house you had your first Thanksgiving? _ How couldn't I argue with that? So, I forfeited all reason and embarked with you on your wonderful and slightly twisted Thanksgiving production.

You began planning and I watched you dive, head first, into this Thanksgiving extravaganza. You bought all the gourmet magazines, you tivo-ed the entire food channel, and I caught you google-ing 'Thanksgiving ideas' a few times at work. You just got really excited and said this Thanksgiving would kick ass. I thought you were a bit crazed, but I'll be dammed if I say your quirkiness didn't turn me on.

I remember this one time, while we were in bed, you asked me if _ Brier En Croute_ and _ Prosciutto and Goat Cheese Bruschetta _ would be good appetizers. I said neither. Frankly, both sounded equally revolting. You rolled your eyes and said I wasn't fancy. I took the ballpoint pen out of your mouth and removed the notebook from your lap and showed you my fancy side. You didn't disagree then.

Cece was having the most fun out of both of us. She loved all the colorful decorations things you brought home. The fall clings and the big tissue balls? They were her favorites. Too bad she liked them a little too much. They would've looked great hanging around the house. The turkey cutout, though, scared her. You couldn't get that thing out of the house fast enough.

Everything was going great until that faithful day with the cornucopia fiasco. You called it quits and I remember tears and fruits flying everywhere. You told me you couldn't do it. You said you tried once before and it failed and this was doomed to fail too. I knew you were stressed out and the sleepless nights were catching up to you, but this really bummed you out. You were so torn. I just held you, telling you, _ Everything was going to be okay, and I love you, Everything is going to be okay. _

After your sobs subsided, I asked about your failed attempt and you told me it was years ago when you were with Roy. The turkey burned, the mashed potatoes were soggy, and Roy forgot to take the green bean casserole out of the oven while you showered. You ended up crashing the Thanksgiving dinner at his friend's house. _ I was so embarrassed,_ you kept telling me, _ I can't go through that again! _

That was when we went down the memory lane of past Thanksgivings. I told you about the time I broke my arm after Pete dared me to jump off the backyard tree and the time I kissed Sarah Leigh under the bleachers during the Thanksgiving football game. You told me about the time you boycotted Thanksgiving and you gushed about the time when you pranked Penny by stuffing the turkey with a Cornish hen and telling her it was a pregnant turkey.

We've had some memorable Thanksgivings. But we both agree that last year's will be etched in our minds forever. We were just married and, not only was Cece on her way, but everyone finally knew about it. The women couldn't stop gushing and I was so proud of you, proud of us. But I think this year's Thanksgiving might give last year's a run for its money.

Well, you didn't give up that night and now the big day is finally here. All your hard work paid off. The house looks great and the cornucopia is talk of the moment. Martha Stewarts has nothing on you. But I have yet to see your face among the sea of friends and family roaming around the house. So, I excuse Cece and I from the living room and go hunting for you. I find you in the kitchen putting the finishing touches on...everything.

"Hey, Babe," I say bouncing Cece in my arms. She's a bit grumpy today.

"I'm almost done. Just one more minute," You say, blowing your bangs away from your eyes while sprinkling something green on the turkey.

"We just miss you," I say and you look up at me and smile. You clean your hands on the apron around your waist and walk to where I'm standing.

"Hi," you say and I give you a peck on your cheek. You gaze at Cece's little head lying on my shoulder and say, "She's still cranky, huh?" You tickle her tummy and a hint of smile breaks across her face just for you. "She didn't go down for a nap?"

"It's been kind of impossible with everyone running around," I say.

Cece reaches out for you and even though you're still busy here, you take her right away and hoist her on your hip.

"I can take her," I say.

"It's fine. I'm almost done. Actually," you said looking around the kitchen, tapping your index finger to your lips, "I'm all done."

You remove the apron from your waist and, like all other American families, we summon everyone to the dining room at halftime. When everyone gathers around our beautifully ornamented table, we begin counting our blessings.

"I'm thankful for my family," Vanessa begins, "And because I made the Varsity cheerleading squad."

We all nod and congratulate her. Tom goes next and thanks his stars for his wife, kids, and the NFL. We look at each other and roll our eyes. Some things don't change. My mom gives thanks for her good health, her family and its newest little member, Cece. Penny is next and she's thankful she has one more year left of school. Helene is quick to expresses how thankful she is for that too.

After we go around and everyone expresses their gratitude, it's our turn.

"First off," you begin, "Thank you for being here. It's really nice to have everyone together. It wouldn't be the same without each and every one of you." I can see you're feeling inexplicably nervous as you say this. I place my hand on the small of your back, urging you to continue, "This is a very special Thanksgiving for us. It's Cece's first. And we are very thankful for her—very thankful for our family."

"Yup," I agree and look at you, holding our blue-eyed baby girl, while she gnaws on her tasty fingers. For a second I think how my life would've been different if you weren't here. "I'm also thankful that we have each other," I add.

"I'm very grateful about that too," you sheepishly say and an orchestrated 'Awww' is heard around the table. Pete asks us to stop before we give everyone cavities. _ A-hole. _

There's a lot more that we're grateful for, but people are hungry and halftime is only 12 minutes long. We say grace and proceed to eat like it's our patriotic duty. Everything is so delicious and everything is just perfect. You glow with every compliment and I inflate with pride for having you as my wife. And don't worry; I didn't forget to mention how pretty you look.

The day comes to an end, and even though it was a good day, I was looking forward to just tucking our little bundle away and curling with you under the couch throw while watching early Christmas specials. And as we lay here, I couldn't imagine this day ending any other way. It's the cherry on top.

"I'm glad Cece came around today," you say.

"Yeah. Another reason to be thankful for," I say and kiss your hair. Your previously pinned curls spills willy-nilly over your shoulders.

"So," you begin. "This was really great, huh? Stressful, but great."

"Yeah, you really did a fantastic job, Babe." You blush and I smile.

"Couldn't have done it without you."

"Yeah, right. I did nothing."

"Trust me, you did plenty." You turn towards me and plant a small peck on my cheek. "So, should we continue the tradition of the 10s?"

"Sure, you start."

"Okay, the top ten things I'm thankful for…Umm-mm…I'm thankful for not burning the turkey." We chuckle, but we know that's a big one. "I'm thankful because mom and dad came, separately, but they were here. I'm thankful because I'm not a salesman anymore." You sigh relieved. I guess we can both be thankful for that. "I'm thankful because I'm not single." I chuckle, but you explain, "Really, I don't have the stamina to go through what Penny's going through. Blind dates? Errr, I'm so over that."

"So, you're saying you're over dates where I blind fold you and—"

"Jim!" you say, flushing all kinds of red. It's so easy to get you.

"Okay, okay…Number five, go."

"Alright, I'm thankful for my health and for yours and Cece's." You look up at me and smile, "That counts as three."

"Okay, I will accept that. Three more to go."

"I'm thankful—and this is a big one—that everything went well when Cece was born."

"That is a big one," I agree. "I thought she was coming at the office. In the break room. With Kevin and Michael there."

You smile. "I thought so too. But she took her sweet time, that child of ours. Which brings me to my next point, I'm thankful for Cece," you say and it brings a few happy tears to your eyes. "She's great, isn't she?"

"Yeah," I say, pulling you just a bit closer to me. "Okay, one more."

You eyes lock with mine and you say, "You." And when you look at me with that kind of attention, like I'm everything to you, I can't help but pull you for a kiss. And for the millionth time, I fall in love with you all over again.

When our lips part, you clear you throat and say, "Okay, your turn."

"Alright, but some of yours overlap with mine. And by some, I mean, ALL."

"No, you can't do that," you protest. "Those are not the rules Jim." Your face scrunches up in frustration much like Cece's and it's adorable.

"Do you want me to repeat them?"

"No.. just… Get new ones!" You say, "Are you thankful for yourself too?"

"I'm very much thankful for myself, as a matter of fact."

You sigh frustrated, but you're not, really. You're okay. But just to make you happy and prove that I'm not breaking any imaginary rules this game might have, I go on and list the ten things that I'm most thankful for, number one being you.

"Awww," you say. The previously angry lines on your face soften.

Because we're both equally exhausted, we turn in early, only to be awakened hours later by our progeny screaming her little lungs out on the baby monitor. It's still dark outside and I'm still asleep to notice that the screams are not from the monitor anymore, but it's Cece's live cries.

I rub the sleep off my eyes just as you lay back down with Cece sandwiched between you and me. She kicks her chubby legs, but settles down as she begins chugging down a bottle. She sighs happily and so do we. Eventually, the little noises she makes while she eats become slow and lazy. When she stops sucking altogether, you elbow me and I know that's me cue to step in.

"C'mere," I say as I haul Cece to my chest. I push myself to a half way sitting position and begin to lazily pat her back. I get a glimpse of the clock on the bedside nightstand and it reads, 4:24.

You've gone under within the last five seconds. You're facing me, curled on your side, mouth parted, hair fanned over the pillow. Cece is sleeping with the same kind of abandon. Both of you look very much alike right now. Even though you think Cece looks like me when she sleeps, you'd think otherwise if you could see yourself right now. Two peas in a pod.

Cece burps. And I'm too tired to put her back in her crib. I lay her between us and for a few fleeting seconds I gaze at you and her and I think, how I did I get so lucky? Something my dad used to say over the years suddenly becomes very clear to me. _Feeling gratitude and not expressing it is like wrapping a present and not giving it. _

So, this is as my gift to you for being the best wife, mom, and best friend ever.

Thank you.

* * *

My wish to all of you:

_May your stuffing be tasty  
May your turkey plump,  
May your potatoes and gravy  
Have nary a lump.  
May your yams be delicious  
And your pies take the prize,  
And may your Thanksgiving dinner  
Stay off your thighs!_

Happy Thanksgiving!


End file.
